robbie stebbins (_stebbins) wrote in afic, @ 2011-06-25 00:15:00 |
|
|||
He was more than a little drunk as he plodded down the path towards Hogsmeade, heading for the Three Broomsticks to Floo home. Though toasting with Justin and Zacharias had been alright, he'd hung around a little longer by himself to walk up to the Quidditch pitch and finish off the Firewhiskey. Sitting in the stands and reminiscing was a decidedly maudlin thing to do, but Robbie rarely gave himself the chance to mourn. And the solitude and alcohol eased up his usually repressed feelings. Somehow, it had got quite late, and aware enough to know Apparating was a bad idea, Robbie had left for the village. Honestly, it was quite the relief that the day was almost over, the sun had disappeared below the horizon long ago, and Robbie could go home and forget all about this for another year. For a Friday evening, the streets of Hogsmeade were quite quiet, though he could hear the faint sounds of revelry from the Hog's Head and, further down, the Three Broomsticks. The now empty liquor bottle hung heavy in his hand, and spotting a bin, he ambled over to drop it inside. Living in a flat with two feuding women was about as fun as -- going to break in Stebbins's face. Michael was officially tired of whatever the hell Padma and Lavender were sparring over and he didn't even know what it was about. He mysteriously turned deaf if the subject came up. His best friend, the one who wasn't dead and buried, had almost shot himself in the head a couple of weeks ago, so he had no sympathy for either of the girls for not being able to suck it up. There were more important things to worry about, and he was irritated at both of them for not seeming to get that. The longer they let Stebbins go, the more likely it was that he might make the first move, and really, at this point, the question was if Michael didn't stick a fork in his own eye before any of that went down because the people in his life, the ones that weren't even after him, were driving him insane. So when he took Padma aside that evening and said Tonight, let's go for it tonight, it was as much a decision spurred by impatience and impulse as it was anything else. They'd gathered all the information they were going to get on Stebbins's movements; now the clock was ticking, and Michael was shit at waiting. "Hogsmeade," he said, once they'd Apparated there. "Must've gone up to Hogwarts, what with Cedric and all." He kept his voice low; the streets were mostly empty, but you never knew. There was no helping that they were both tracked STs, but hopefully the fact that this was a wizarding village would help explain their presence. It wasn't quite curfew yet. "Let's just hope he decided to drown his sorrows while he were at it so he don't Apparate off." Padma’s therapist told her she was being irrational with Lavender, and it had been the reminder that Michael was right about Stebbins and her safety that she had come back. Still, she stayed mostly to her room, unable to quite put into words the apology that she needed to give to Lavender. She’d actually been drafting a rambling sort of letter when Michael had insisted it was time. Grabbing the unmonitored wands Michael had secured for them, she left her journal and the letter to Lavender on her bed, following Michael with a nervous anticipation that had her heart jumping agitatedly at her throat. She kept close to Michael, trusting his experience from his years as a Hit Wizard. She kept quiet, not trusting her voice to come out as anything more than a squeak if she did try to speak. She wanted desperately to hold onto Michael’s hand, but she didn’t think hand holding was part of an ambush. There was actually something left in this bottle, Robbie realised, peering into the long neck and seeing a sliver of golden liquid sloshing thinly along the base. He rested a hand on the rim of the rubbish bin, to steady himself, and tipped the bottle back, the Firewhiskey slipping straight down his throat and burning in quite a pleasant fashion by now. His senses were dulled but a rustle made him nervously cast his eyes around the street, but the alcohol held off any panic he might have had and he figured it was probably a cat or something. A drink sounded really good right about now, actually. It had been awhile since Michael had done anything like this and he wanted to think he had all of his old skills as a Hitwizard at his disposal, but there was always that doubt in the back of his head -- but this time, he didn't have to do any Sherlock Holmes-esque deductions to find Stebbins at all. A side glance at someone near a rubbish bin and there he was. Michael's pulse sped up, though with an entirely different sort of nervous anticipation from Padma's. Silently he tapped Padma on the arm and pointed toward the alleyway, then gestured for her to hang back so she was in shadow, features not immediately visible. Hesitating would have looked suspicious. Michael ambled right up to Stebbins. "You all right there, mate?" he asked mildly. Robbie twisted on the spot, his movements heavy and lumbered and ungainly. He grabbed for his wand, tucked stupidly far away in his pocket, and fumbled. The bottle fell in the confusion, crashing to the ground and shattering into shards of glass. "Oh, shit," he muttered, but the sound of the bottle breaking seemed to jerk some sort of sobriety into him, and he managed to withdraw his wand, sticking it out in front of him, somewhat ready for any danger. His eyes focused on the bloke in front of him, not immediately recognising the face, but it may have been the darkness and the blur of his vision. He wasn't attacking Robbie either, talking quite friendly actually, so maybe it was alright. Still, he kept his wand up and cleared his throat, trying to sound official. "Who are you?" he asked sternly, his words slurring a little. Padma wasn’t sure what exactly Michael meant to do, but she stayed back as instructed, heart leaping into her throat as she watched her friend stroll straight up to Stebbins, and she instinctively stepped further back into the shadow, as if the darkness could protect her. Stebbins didn’t seem intimidating, not like this, but she was sure he was the one who’d left her alone, Obliviated, and injured in a random shed in gods knew where. She let out a small gasp when Stebbins pulled his wand, quickly slamming her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, not wanting it to startle the other man and set him firing drunkenly in the streets. She looked around for somewhere darker, quieter, off the path. She assumed Michael would try to subdue him, and then they needed to get him somewhere out of sight where they could—well, Padma didn’t think her mental image of kicking the other man in his knee caps repeatedly was what Michael had in mind, but his and Padma’s idea of violence were likely very different anyway. "More sober'n you," Michael said, grinning at Stebbins, or more accurately, the wand in his face. The slowed reaction time told him that Stebbins was not quite sober, reflexes not quite where they should be, and wasn't that lucky? Now that he was up close he discovered that memory was unreliable; Stebbins was taller and larger than he'd remembered. Raising his hands in a universal gesture of harmlessness, Michael kept smiling. "Mind pointing that somewhere else? Hope you haven't got a missus t'go home to, she'd make you sleep on the sofa, sure." Every few words he stepped a little closer, forcing Robbie to either back up farther into the alleyway or put the wand down, at the very least. It was really bloody unnerving that this bloke was smiling. Actually, as his vision focused and his brain kicked in a little more, he recognised the bloke as Michael Corner, ex-Hitwizard... And Suspected Terrorist. Oh, Jesus. That's what this was about, wasn't it? He was being attacked just like Tacklesford had, and just like Baxter, and all those that had come before him. Ministry supporters and workers attacked by these terrorists. This was what he'd worried about, what he needed a bodyguard for, what his robes needed protection charms for, this was what Alicia had been training him to shoot for. He narrowed his eyes and looked around the alley to see whether Corner was on his own or had some cohorts lurking around. But as he pushed forward, Robbie had less space to wield his wand. Never mind the fact that the alcohol was bound to have some adverse effect on his abilities to cast spells right now. Robbie didn't have combat training, but through time at the gym and generally being a lad, he could somewhat hold his own in a fight. Plus Corner wasn't whipping out a wand, so maybe this was what he wanted. Robbie was bigger too. With seriously flawed judgement, he shoved his wand into his pocket and swung a punch at Corner's jaw. Maybe he could take him down and get the hell away, he thought hopefully. Michael's laugh as he saw Stebbins's fist coming toward him was cut short when his head snapped back under the force of the blow. His teeth clicked down hard on his tongue. So it was going to be like that? He could deal with that. A bar brawl without the bar. "That makes it easier," he said, somehow still smiling; one of his upraised hands closed into a fist, and he cheerfully swung at Robbie, right in the gut. A simple silencing spell might have been faster and less risky, but he wanted the pain that accompanied having the wind knocked of out a body. Shit and damnit, Michael! Padma quickly pulled out her wand, casting Petrificus Totalus at Stebbins. They weren’t going to go unnoticed if they started a brawl in the streets. The whole point was to be quiet about it all and not get caught. She shoved her wand back in her denims, giving Michael a pointed look as she stepped forward and looked him over, reaching up to nudge a finger at his jaw—the side that didn’t get punched—before squinting at it in the dim light. “You can punch him all you want when we aren’t in the middle of Hogsmeade,” she murmured, glancing down at Stebbins, knowing he could see her and feeling momentarily inclined to make a crude gesture or kick him for good merit. Making eye contact, though, sent a chill up her spine, and she quickly looked away, for any place they could get him to, and quickly, before anyone noticed them. "Killjoy," Michael shot back, finally retrieving his own wand from up his sleeve. His jaw hurt and he could taste blood, but all in all this seemed like a promising start to the night. It was almost too easy, but why complain about that, right? He deliberately stepped hard on Stebbins's foot before casting a levitation charm to get him upright. Frozen limbs made it difficult, but as he'd done with Baxter's corpse -- and wasn't that a macabre comparison -- he managed to loop an arm around his neck; from a distance this would look normal enough, like he was supporting a drunk friend home. "We're gonna have fun, ain't that nice?" he said to Stebbins, hauling him off into a quiet side street. He'd fallen like the two-hundred-and-twenty pounds rigid sack of potatoes he was, painfully hitting the ground. And shit, that wasn't Corner's spell, he'd clearly seen both of Corner's hands occupied with landing a punch right into his abdomen that radiated with pain as he lay on the cobblestones. That meant it was someone else, Corner did have an accomplice. And they were going to kill him, he knew it. But as the partner emerged from the shadows and loomed over him, chastising Michael and promising that there would be more than this, his eyes widened further than they already were. It was Padma bloody Patil. Oh, god, she had known. She had figured it out, and it was all his bloody fault. He should have let someone know, he shouldn't have kept it a secret that had inevitably come round and bitten a big chunk out of his arse. She met his eyes for a moment and he stared back. At least there was poetry in this, it was so similar to what he'd done to her. Petrificus Totalus in Hogsmeade? Check. He blinked hard, and groaned as his foot was crushed, the sound rumbling in his throat. And as Corner hauled him to his feet in an imitation of a bloke hanging onto his friend, his gaze darted around to see someone, anyone, that could help. Didn't the MAB patrol here? Surely someone would notice them, notice him, see that he was Petrified, help him? Fun? he thought with a panicked look between Corner and Padma, Oh, God. What did that mean?Testing how loud he could get without opening his mouth, he shouted behind his lips, never mind his attackers. Padma slipped down the alley ahead of Michael, looking for a space that could prove helpful, or at least a private enough place where they could apparate away. She didn’t like the wary feeling rising in her chest, or the fact that there was no plan or method to anything they were doing. She wasn’t particularly fond of the whole rolling with it philosophy this seemed to be taking. The alley led to a fence line on the edge of the town, and on the edge of the small pasture she could spy a little out building. If they slipped along the tree line, maybe they could slip behind the shed and apparate somewhere less conspicuous? And somewhere where no one could hear the awful noise coming from Stebbins throat. “There?” she pointed, turning back to Michael, avoiding looking directly at the giant of a man at his side. He was still as intimidated, even when he wasn’t moving. This was starting to feel familiar, if not in any comfortable way. Michael couldn't say he was particularly sorry to play bad cop in this situation; Stebbins should be made to feel frightened. He'd done the same to Padma and it was well past time for him to pay for it. With Padma ahead of them, Michael kept his voice low, pitching it for Stebbins's ears only. The muted noises of distress weren't very loud but they were continual. "Try shutting up for now, Stebbins. You'll wanna save that for later, yeah?" In his personal experience, the threat of future harm was always more disconcerting than actually offering it right then and there. Dragging along sixteen stone of dead weight, even with the help of magic, was slow going; several times Michael looked over his shoulder at some stray noise to make sure they weren't being followed. When they got to the shed, he nodded in approval to Padma. "Kensington Gardens," he said, less a suggestion than a command, because he'd Apparated with Stebbins in tow a few moments later. A nice big park where they could leave Stebbins alone and helpless afterwards. Poetic justice, that was. Padma rolled her eyes at Michael’s command. She started to protest, but her words were left hanging in the air, and she quickly followed, but upon reaching the gardens, she realised she didn’t know exactly where he was. “Shit,” she swore, casting her eyes around apprehensively for any sign of Michael and Stebbins. Planning wasn't one of Michael's strongest suits. Through the trees he could still hear the noises of traffic, see the lights from buildings and streetlamps, but he didn't see Padma. Right, that whole vague direction thing. He dropped Stebbins more or less gently -- okay, he just dropped him, with a "Hang on a tick," -- onto the ground before reaching for his DA galleon. Useful old thing. A tap of the wand and his coordinates gleamed along the edge of the coin; somewhere out there, a copy of the same coin was glowing warm in Padma's pocket. Padma fumbled for the coin in her pocket, smiling gratefully at the coordinates. The gods bless Hermione Granger. These things still proved useful on so many occasions. She quickly popped over to Michael’s location, eyes immediately taking in their surroundings. Once she had a lay of the land, she looked to Stebbins and wondered just what to do with him, and just how best to get started. She started casting silencing charms and protective wards around the area. With Michael’s help, she got Stebbins maneuvered against a tree. She started casting a few binding charms, and when she felt like he was secure, she released Stebbins, hoping the binds were too tight for him. “I’d ask if you remember me, but—” and the sarcasm dripped from her lips as she cocked her head at Stebbins, “It’s pretty clear from your encounter with the filing cabinet that you do. How’s your elbow?” Padma’s face a covered in a strange mix of emotions, and if she’d been looking in the mirror, she’d even have had a hard time placing exactly all the things she was feeling. Anger, of course, and a good helping of fear, but mixed with these was a grim satisfaction at seeing the bigger man bound and knowing she had the upper hand. “But then again, that’s how you wanted it, wasn’t it? You remembering, but not me, right? I wasn’t supposed to find out what you did to me.” The threat was indeed disconcerting, and Robbie tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He heard the destination and filed it away. It wasn't near his home, but it was in Muggle London, and he knew enough of the area to be able to flee, whether safely or not. These two were friends, weren't they? Familiar enough to work together on this. And they were both Suspected Terrorists. That meant they were both Tracked. It didn't ease his fears that they wouldn't do something to him, even kill him, but there was a strange relief that they would be caught for this. Especially when they Apparated, that would get flagged up in the Department, particularly this close to curfew. Two ST's together in Muggle London? They certainly would be. And he felt some sort of laugh bubble up in his chest when he realised they'd somehow separated themselves. It was a ridiculous thing to find amusing right now, but he grasped onto it. Of course, his face then met the ground with a gravelly hello that would undoubtedly have grazed his cheek and would leave an ugly mark if he didn't sort it out later. No scars, please, he mentally chanted. Robbie didn't see the coin trick, and so it was with surprise that Padma appeared moments later. Crap. The moment he could open his mouth, he screamed at the top of his lungs into the night air, even though he'd seen her putting up wards. Maybe, just maybe, someone might hear, through a chink or something. He had to try. He struggled against the binds, they were too tight, and he twisted his arms against them, wriggling against the trunk. He wasn't suave enough to just stay still and take it, his heart hammering in his throat as he fought even as they stood before him. They had the power, really. He knew that. When Padma tilted her head and spoke, his eyes narrowed at her. She looked wrathful, of course, she wanted revenge, and he glared at her. He could echo her anger, use it instead of feeling guilty. "What do you want from me, huh?" he asked, straight to the point, his words coming a little clearer now that the alcohol was starting to wear off. He didn't want to talk about the Obliviation, he'd done it for a reason and he couldn't tell her why. “What do I want from you?” she spat, stepping straight up to him, not even near to being in his face, but angry enough to feel better at a closer proximity. She wanted to hurt him just then. Every ounce of anger that bubbled up in her begged her to hurt him. She reached up and punched him as hard as she could in the jaw, and though it was awkward from her shorter angle, and though it hurt her hand enough for her to cry out after, she was satisfied with the contact of skin to skin. “I want to know what the fuck you took from me, you great ape!” She raised her wand to point at him, mostly for intimidation, but also out of a strange need to feel more secure in the situation. “Tell me what you did to me,” she demanded. His head knocked back and bounced off the tree. Though she was small, her punch connected enough to hurt, her fist hitting the graze from earlier. Robbie hissed through his teeth and then gritted them, clenching his fists and tugging once more at the restraints. He didn't want to hit her, he wanted to get the fuck away. His eyes cast downwards at his pockets, wondering where his wand was. He couldn't remember what had happened to it, but if he could just get a grip on it, he could try Apparating, risk splinching himself just to escape. Eyes on the end of her wand then, his breath coming fast and attention caught, Robbie pressed his lips together, wanting nothing more than to be able to not speak again, to be Petrified. The alcohol loosened his tongue though, and he spoke without thinking. "It's Obliviation for a reason, you aren't supposed to know," he said with a shake of his head. “You—” Padma couldn’t even think of the words necessary to describe this absolutely horrible human being before her. Bound and hurt as he was, he still managed to provoke her into anger, and her hands clenched, one around her wand, the other into a tight fist by her side. She was shaking with rage, and she was tempted to remove an important part of his anatomy. She was pissed. Understandably. Robbie looked away from Padma then, looking for Corner. He was the one that was the unknown entity here. Padma had reason for revenge, Corner was a passenger in this. Robbie knew all about loyalty, he was a fucking Hufflepuff after all, but this seemed different. They didn't even seem like they had a plan, it was strange. It gave him a, mostly likely false, sense of confidence, and he straightened up against the trunk then, lifting his chin. "You're both Tracked, you know?" he said, trying to reason with them. "You two, together, out here in Muggle territory, that's an instant alarm back at the Ministry. There'll be people on their way." He nodded, not completely sure of himself but projecting that impression to at least worry them a little. "Let me go, I'll forget all about this." Bad choice of words, he thought as soon as he'd said it, wincing slightly. Michael had been standing there silently through the exchange, busy keeping half an eye on the surrounding trees. Stebbins was right: Apparition had been a stupid move, even with unregistered wands. That was fine, though, he could still roll with that. He'd cautioned Padma about this. It wasn't a matter of if they'd be caught but when, it was always better to think that way, and knowing that they could at least end it on their own terms -- he hoped. "If we're gonna have company soon, you'd better start talking fast, then," Michael said, moving between Padma and Stebbins; he gave her wand hand a brush with his own fingers, halfway between warning and comfort. He didn't want another Anthony situation on his hands. Not that he thought Padma would go that far, but... "Me, I'd rather let you go, Stebbins. The way you let Padma here go. I'd leave you with half your mind gone and bleeding out somewhere where no one can hear you. Now, I'm no expert at Obliviation, so I might botch it, but I'm not fussed. Fair's fair, innit?" Michael was no longer smiling; he would have preferred to beat Stebbins bloody, or at least the opportunity to do so, a fair fight, but the thrill of one was no longer in the cards. He stopped within an arm's reach of Stebbins and continued to look at him. "But Padma wants to know why you did it. I guess you need a working brain to answer. I would, if I was you. Aurors can get here in five minutes, but that won't help you. I can work faster than that. Or you can tell her what she wants to know, and you get t'go home." Corner stepped forward then and Robbie's confidence waned a little, though he did notice Corner's warning hand on Padma's wand. Even though he'd said help would be on its way, he didn't know for sure, and he sure as hell couldn't rely on it. His gaze darted between them, trying to judge their viciousness. Tacklesford had been tortured, Baxter stabbed - would these two do something similar? Robbie didn't know if he could handle a Crucio, and it brought too many memories bubbling up to the surface of his mind from his time in Azkaban, made blood rush to his head and he breathed hard. He stared at Corner when he suggested that he might try and Obliviate him. That was more dangerous than what he'd done to Padma, he'd at least had years of training. Yes, he'd still stuffed it up, but the thought of Corner doing it was terrifying. He'd end up in that ward at Mungo's where they dribbled onto their trays and stared up at the ceiling. Fuck, he'd seen them like it in Azkaban. No way. "Look," he started, holding his hands up from his side, his wrists twisting to try to show them in that universal gesture of surrender. He looked at Padma, knowing he wouldn't get any sympathy but angling for some sort of reason. "I-" What could he say though? He cast his eyes across the treeline opposite, blinking as he thought of what he could confess, what he might be able to tell her that was the truth but not the entire of it. "When I did it, the memory wiping, you struggled, mentally. Used Occulumency or something, it wasn't supposed to go like that. I didn't know I'd done something wrong until after." He sighed, wishing he could rub his face or hide his eyes or something, dipping his head lower, the shame and guilt of it all making his scalp itch. "And the bleeding, fuck, that wasn't even me, that was someone else!" Michael was better at this, she thought, dropping her hands to her sides, fingers still tightly clenched around her wand. Then again, Michael didn’t have as much emotional stake in the matter as her, and just thinking of this man Obliviating her, for whatever purpose, made her blood boil. And simultaneously, it made her want to cry. “You didn’t cause the bleeding,” though it was clear she didn’t believe him, “But you left me there anyway.” She stepped forward again, wand still lowered. “It was 4 p.m. the last time anyone heard from me. That’s eleven hours I’ve got unaccounted for. Eleven.” She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to start piecing things together. He was giving some information—he must have been the reason she had started taking Occlumency lessons. “What were you taking? I’ve got more than that day unaccounted for, so would you care to elaborate, or would you like Michael to make good on his promise? I promise you, his wandwork is almost as pretty as the way he talks.” It was meant more as a threat than an insult to Michael, and in this particular situation, she didn’t think he’d mind. Michael’s wand work was excellent, but she’d rather have Stebbins think it was as fast and rambly and lacking syllables as Michael’s speech. Robbie's eyebrows drew together as Padma spoke, his attention on her. "I really wasn't," he interrupted as she blatantly didn't believe he hadn't cut her arm. "That field healing bandage thing was me, I did that." He went silent again as she continued, and he huffed a little as he opened his mouth a few more times to interject, deciding against it and just sounding like he was stuttering and unable to get his words out. And the threat of Corner's ugly wand work did the trick, as Robbie licked his lips nervously and swallowed. "Alright, alright!" he said, letting his head rest back agains the trunk for a moment as he gathered his words. He had to tell her most of the truth, another look at Corner told him he had better do it quickly, and he set his shoulders straight as he began. "Look, I couldn't just wipe the one thing, that day. It'd give me away, or," he said, punctuated by a short tired chuckle that was incredibly inappropriate but he couldn't repress it, "I thought it would have. I thought it might be better if I wiped the whole thing, all of me. It was only a few meetings, but I needed to, national security type reasons." He swallowed again, he was straying into dangerous territory here with what he could divulge. "You two are terrorists," and before they could get all upset over that, he ploughed on, swivelling his wrists up again to possibly hold them back or at least prepare himself for another attack, a punch or a kick or something. "What I mean is, the thing that I wiped was necessary to the Ministry, secret. If you two ever had any sort of loyalty to the government or this country, you'll understand why I had to rectify it." He sighed again, meeting Padma's eyes then. "I really didn't mean to screw it up. Mental damage like that, shit, I really didn't expect that. You fought it really hard, and I didn't know at the time that was going to hurt that much. I'm an Obliviator, was," he corrected, "I've never had it go wrong like that, and I still don't really know why, so I'm..." Was it ridiculous that this was so hard to say, to apologise? Bloody do it, he ordered himself. "I'm sorry, okay? For the damage I did. If I could take anything back, it'd be that." If he let himself, Robbie could blame it on the rushed training he'd had before the war had broken out and he'd been sent to Azkaban, and then the way he'd forced himself back to work so prematurely after he'd been released, no time for a proper recovery from his imprisonment. Of course he'd finally messed an Obliviation up, it was only a matter of percentages. "Leaving you in the shed," Robbie closed his eyes regretfully for a few moments. "That wasn't supposed to go like that either. The minute I apparated out of there, I sent out an owl to your friend, what was his name?" The alcohol blurred his recall just then, and he tutted, knowing it made him sound like a liar, but it was true. He really had sent the owl. "And anyway, you weren't supposed to be knocked out, I thought you'd wake up a little later and get yourself home. You'd think you got injured in that battle, hid in the shed or something until it was over, and get to Mungo's." “You’re sorry?” Padma blurted, utterly shocked. She looked affronted by his words and she stepped even closer, puffing up like a kitten. “You’re sorry?” Padma took a deep breath, shaking her head in disbelief. “You wiped every memory of yourself from my mind because I found something out—one thing? And I’m supposed to believe you? And then accept your apology?” Padma glared up at him beneath hooded eyes. “Of course I fought back! Clearly you’re the reason I have all these memories of Occlumency training—why was I trying to up my guard around you?” She was inching closer the more she spoke, her words growing tight and tense, her courage growing because he couldn’t move and she was furious. “If I only knew one little thing about the Ministry, why erase all my knowledge of you? What—” Padma’s language grew a bit stilted, clearly her words were tumbling from her lips as she was thinking them. “What was the nature of our relationship that you felt is necessary to remove every memory of you?” Panic at what he might have done—what she might have done in, as Michael described it, her attempts to go Mata Hari. She was seething, hands shaking at her sides, and she should probably take the answer she had, but she had to know. “And what made you think you could get away with it? What have I ever done to you that you thought you could do this to me?” "Don't accept the apology," he shouted back, leaning forward against the bindings, his hair falling into his eyes and he shook his head, irritated, to flick the locks back. "It is what is, but I am fucking sorry, alright?" He matched her glare before looking away in annoyance. What time was it? he wondered as he looked up at the darkening sky, wasn't it curfew yet? Padma carried on, and he rolled his eyes without meaning to. "I don't know why you had that training, I don't know what you were up to." Robbie narrowed her eyes at her then. Despite his precarious position and the fact that he was decidedly not in the position of power here, he took a dangerous detour to accusation. "You kept running into me, pushing me about all sorts of things. I'd said that I was going to look into your case to see whether or not your Suspected Terrorist status had been deserved, see whether I could help you out somehow," -whoops, shouldn't have confessed that, but he needed to continue- "But maybe that's what you were doing the whole time, spying," he said with emphasis. "You only need Occulumency when you're trying to hide something, don't you? Trying to find out some information so you could do something really traitorous, maybe," he gestured at Corner. He needed to shut up, really, stop being such a prick, but he couldn't help it. If she hated him already, nothing he said could change that, and he might as well go for broke. "You probably thought you were being very clever, riling the Junior Assistant up and getting insider information for all your terrorist mates." He blew a breath out, realising he was going too far and he needed to shut up before he rambled too much and accidentally said something he'd really regret. "I did what I had to do, alright? It wasn't a matter of getting away with it." Robbie shut up then, planted his feet against the ground and slumped against the restraints. He didn't really have anything more to say. “You’re a fuck,” she hissed. “An arrogant, puffed-up fuck. I never did anything to you. I wasn’t running into you or trying to make you do anything, but thanks,” she said sarcastically, “For letting me know that I could make you do something.” Padma glared back over her shoulder to look at Michael before turning back to Stebbins. “Just fuck you,” she spat, kicking him in the shin. There was hardly any physical damage she could do, and slapping him again seemed redundant. “And give me my memories back. I want them. They’re mine.” Robbie hissed at the sharp pain to his shin as she struck him with her tiny foot, but was glad that it wasn't another shot to his face. The 'arrogant, puffed-up fuck' stuff wasn't anything he hadn't heard before for situation far less worse than this, so that didn't faze him. But her sarcastic comment made him frown at his mistake. He'd made himself out to be an idiot that could have been swayed, and sure, at the time, he supposed he had been, but damn, it wasn't good for the ego to have her say it like that. He didn't say anything though, there was no point. When she demanded her memories back, he shook his head. "Can't. Those memories are gone." He blew a breath out through his lips, tired eyes flicking over to Corner to see what he was doing, what he was going to do. "You aren't going to want me poking around in your brain now anyway, are you?" he continued, with a roll of his eyes. Could they get this over with already? Beat him up, kill him, whatever. At least he'd die the same date as Cedric, there was something to that, wasn't there? Michael took it personally when his friends were hurt, his presence here at all spoke volumes on that, but what Stebbins had done to Padma hadn't been directly experienced. It was slightly easier to skim past what Stebbins was and wasn't saying. Still, the sheer arrogance of him was enough to make Michael want to take a shot at his shins himself. He restrained himself, barely. When someone was tied up and weaponless you didn't have to be nice but you did have to be fair about dealing damage. There was a lot Stebbins was right on the money for, why Padma had struck up a relationship with him, why the Occlumency. Confirming that would not be a good thing. "You're sorry," he repeated, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. It was just as derisive as Padma's repeating of the phrase. "Maybe she wanted t'learn Occlumency so she didn't have to worry about shits like you fucking with her memory just 'cause she were at the wrong place, wrong time. Wiping our memories for the good of the country -- we should all be so lucky t'serve like that, is that it? I'm loyal to my country, Stebbins. But Diggory's not fucking Britain. I won't follow some dumb fuck what can't tell the real enemy from his arse end. And for the record? I did more terrorist shit serving under the Ministry than I ever done once I got the brand. Go figure. Having a pretty badge that says it's okay to mind-rape people don't make you right." Had he heard something over the noise of traffic? Michael glanced over at the treeline, then at Padma, disgust twisting his mouth. "You won't get much more out of him, Pads, not like this. We gotta go pretty soon." Well, Padma had to go, at least. If they had more time, Stebbins might be able to be broken into talking, but this was far from a professional interrogation; the cocky way Stebbins kept talking, he knew he didn't have very much to fear, and for good reason. Whatever Padma had hoped to accomplish in this moment with Stebbins was never going to happen, and whatever fears she’d had of him were diminishing. She looked after at him and frowned, disgusted, but mostly sorry. He was defeated, she could tell, but in a momentary way. His slumped shoulders in his restraints, his smart alec mouth that she was itching to slap again, but he wasn’t going to tell her what she wanted, or maybe he had and she didn’t believe him. Truth was, he was useless to her, and from the sounds of it, always had been, for whatever purposes she might have had to speak to him in the first place. Her frown deepened and she started to step back, relinquish to Michael’s request, but she paused, turning back that scant inch it took to get in his face again and making sure he made eye contact before she spoke. “I firmly believe in karma, and this is not it.” She let her gaze travel to his toes and back up again, as if sizing up his worth. The look on her face clearly said she found it lacking. “One day, someone will hurt you as you’ve hurt me, and you will suffer for what you’ve done.” She stepped back, becoming uncomfortable with being so close to him. It was giving her a headache. “Fortunately for you, I’m not that person.” Padma sighed heavily, shaking her head at the thought of it. Then she shrugged, a weight seeming to have lifted off her shoulders as she transferred that karmic weight onto Robbie. He would pay. She felt assured in this, though she regretted she would be able to watch him fall and burn when it did happen, bad karma as that thought was. “Fortunately for Michael, though, we don’t share the same opinion, and he believes in a personal sort of payback,” Padma’s voice had taken on a new tone when she started to refer to Michael. It was as if she’d suddenly started to think of something lighthearted and fond. She paused to look back at Michael, tutting softly. “And look at the face. Could you really deny that face anything?” she turned back to Stebbins, a strange sort of smile coming over her face as she playacted false sweetness. It was sarcasm and saccharine, and Michael or Anthony would have told you, if you were a third year Ravenclaw trying to do something naughty, that this particular Padma voice was her ‘I’m a Prefect. You’re in trouble and I sort of like doling out this punishment’ voice. It was also known as ‘Run.’ "Serving your country isn't for the faint-hearted," Robbie said tiredly, mostly to himself. "It isn't easy, and sometimes you have to do something terrible to keep people safe. I can admit that." Corner continued though, deriding Diggory and Robbie couldn't take that. "Diggory's doing what should be done. You think he's getting some sadistic pleasure out of all this? Your brands, the tracking, the wand monitoring? It's keeping this country safe, doing more to help people than any Ministry's done before!" His breath came fast then, he knew that his words were falling on deaf ears, but he needed to at least try and make them understand what he was fighting for, that his cause was just. "Hundreds were killed, thousands suffered under the hands of Death Eaters and sympathisers and people who looked the other way because they were too scared of getting their hands dirty." He looked at Corner then, the former Hitwizard. "You know what it's like, sometimes innocent people get caught in the crossfire when you're taking the bad guys down." He was oversimplifying it, but it didn't matter right now. "You can't tell me that in the same position, securing a vital piece of information for your country or your cause, you wouldn't have done something similar?" "You lost some memories of a bloke who worked in the Ministry, so what? Yeah, I fucked up the spell and did some damage, but in the grand scheme of things, that isn't that bad." He wanted to scratch his head in irritation, wanted to shut up, but if this was the last chance he had to defend himself to her, somewhat justify his actions, he had to take it. And the alcohol made it easier. "Try Azkaban." He said it with finality and conviction, and he looked between the two of them expectantly, knowing neither of them had suffered that. "Try that when you're just a kid, for something you haven't done. Try being tortured and experimented on and there's no sign of light at the end of the tunnel and all you want is to die." He shook his head, disappointed that they wouldn't understand that. "That's what we're stopping. By any means necessary." He stopped talking again then, hating that he was so easily riled up and so easily pushed to the edge. Cedric wouldn't have been. And as he allowed himself to dwell as Corner muttered to Padma about how he was useless or some shit, he wondered whether Cedric would be on their side, with the Ministry in all this. It was a horrid sobering thought. Because maybe he wouldn't be. His lips pressed into a line as Padma turned to him, sarcastic and voice dripping with sweetness, and he met her eyes as she stepped closer. Robbie looked down at her words; he believed he would suffer for what he'd done, and in a way, he was looking forward to it. Better than the guilt eating away inside as it had these weeks since. Then she shifted, and his attention was firmly on Corner then, the air seemed to charge and prickle. The other wizard was dangerous, Robbie knew that, and he looked back at Padma nervously as she smiled strangely. She was going to enjoy this, wasn't she? He backed up against the tree, uselessly trying to move away. The worst things the Ministry had done in these past years, no matter how much justice they'd achieved, he'd never enjoyed the punishments of those guilty. It was so much more worrying that these two seemed like they liked what they were doing right now. He used his full weight and strength then to lunge forward and break the bindings, hearing a surprising but satisfying creak in the tree as he did so, and his hand immediately went for his pocket, and the wand that was tucked within. Try being tortured. Oh, right, this prick did not get to get into a pissing contest over who had had it worse in the war. The thing that made Michael the angriest was that by rights they should have been on the same side in all of this -- there were still ex-Death Eaters and purists on the loose, and instead of fighting the real threat, Diggory had decided to make more unnecessary enemies. Waste of time. Mistakes abounded: of the many things they shouldn't have done, well, this entire enterprise, but also not keeping Stebbins immobilized, taking his wand away. When the ropes creaked, Michael thought, Shit, and simultaneously shoved Padma away, wand already upraised. "Put it down," he shouted, not really expecting Stebbins to listen. He wouldn't, if their positions were reversed. Fingertips teased the wand up swiftly out of his pocket until it was firmly within his grip and he muttered a 'Finite!', bindings fizzling out around him and releasing him from the tree. He held his wand up, flicked his hair out of his eyes and stood in the Ministry-trained stance of duelling. Corner ordered him to put the wand down, but it was two against one, and he wasn't stupid. His heartbeat raced and just as he raised his wand to Disapparate, he remembered the bottle of Firewhiskey he'd guzzled earlier. Fuck, he could splinch himself apart. MAB would definitely be here soon, wouldn't they? All he had to do was hold them off until they arrived, or maybe manage to escape on foot. He flicked his wand in Corner's direction. "Expelliarmus!" he cried, trying to keep his eyes on both opponents. Padma quickly raised her wand, have hidden behind Michael, she cast Expelliarmus from around Michael’s side, trying to disarm the other man. Michael just barely dodged the jinx Stebbins had sent his way. Almost at the same time Padma raised her own wand, he spat out, "Diffindo," aiming for Stebbins's wand hand. Oh, bloody hell, he thought as the two spells came at him at the same time, and his mind blurred for the moment it took to decide which to let hit and which to deflect. Losing a wand seemed much better than taking a Severing Charm, so he deflected Corner's spell with a wave of the wand and found himself flying back through the air to land on his back roughly, his wand spinning a dazzling arc through the air back towards Padma. It didn't take long for him to scrabble to his feet though, taking off in the opposite direction through the park, hoping that he was moving fast enough to avoid any spells they might cast at his retreating back. Padma just barely caught Stebbins' wand before pain ripped across her exposed side. She stumbled backwards, tripping over some rocks and landing, sprawled on her back over some rocks lining a bed of perennials in the gardens. She didn’t mean to scream cry out quite so loud, and would regret it later, feeling as if something about her cry had been what might have led the DMLE to their location. Seeing her leg, Padma gagged and turned her head, a horrible choked sound ripping from her throat. Oh, gods, she hated blood, and there was so much. She could quite tell ripped denim from flesh, but she put a desperate hand to her side, trying to stave off the flow of blood from her hip. Michael had started to follow Stebbins when a scream jerked him in the other direction. Turning his head, he saw an awful sight: Padma sprawled on the ground, liquid that appeared to be blue-black under the scant moonlight spreading on her side. With a curse he turned back to go to her. The spell was his; what had happened was obvious at a glance. "Shit. M'sorry," he said, repeating the apology as his hands flew over the injury, trying to see how bad it was. The severing charm had parted cloth and flesh as easily as butter, but it didn't seem to have hit an artery, judging by the rate of blood loss. He grabbed Padma's hand and made her press down hard against her leg. "You'll be fine," he said. She had to be. "Fine. S'just blood, you need t'be stitched up a bit, s'no big deal, yeah? You go now, all right? Write t'Gus, check yoursen into a Muggle hospital, go someplace safe." He shook her shoulder a bit, which wasn't very Healer-like, but he was far from a medical professional, and Stebbins was getting away. "Look at me. You're fine to Apparate. Get outta here now. You tried t'stop me, you weren't here on purpose -- you understand me," he said fiercely, knowing she was clever enough to know what he was talking about. This had gone wrong and being tracked, they didn't have alibis. Padma didn’t want to agree with him so readily, but her leg was throbbing, and the feeling of the blood under her fingers was making her woozy. She was shit for a battle, she’d always told the boys so. Safe, though. She could do safe. Reaching for his hand, she let him help her up before she shoved at him roughly. “Go,” she begged. This was what they had come for, and as much as she hated it, she knew he had to stop Stebbins, to shut him up before they both got arrested. “Don’t make this for nothing, Michael, go.” She gave him a pointed look before throwing Stebbins’s wand towards the bushes. She took a steadying breath before glancing down at her wound and casting a coagulating charm, one she hoped would hold until she could get to— get to where? They’d check Lavender’s flat first, so she couldn’t get there and get out before curfew, even to get her journal. Anthony would be a likely place for her to go, or her parents, ruling both options out. She checked her watch, wondering if she could make it to Falmouth in time. She had to try. She couldn’t risk getting to Gus’s clinic and him not being there—knowing Adrian had a curfew, too. He’d at least be home. She just hoped he didn’t have a guest. Casting one last look up at Michael, she gave a grim wave and disapparated. He waited just long enough to see her Disapparate before he was out of the clearing again, his unregistered wand snapped in two and flung into some bushes to hide it. For some neat irony he could have picked up Stebbins's wand to hex him, but magic wasn't how Michael wanted to finish this; it wouldn't have been fair that way. The adrenaline flaring in his veins and the pressing knowledge that he was going to get caught, that Padma was hurt because of him -- he couldn't fix any of it but he could at least try to bruise Stebbins's face a bit the old-fashioned way. With that noble goal in mind, he sprinted after Stebbins's retreating form. Ordinarily the head start might have been insurmountable, but Stebbins was still drunk and probably feeling the after-effects of being petrified, and Michael was flat-out sprinting. They were still safely within the grounds of the park when Michael barreled into Stebbins, silently and without warning, trying to knock him off-balance. It was true that he hadn't got very far, the ground disconcertingly tilting in front of him as he ran and his legs stiff from the body-binding charm. Robbie held heavy arms out to catch hold of trees and lamp-posts, to keep himself upright and to avoid crashing into them. He'd heard the scream in the background, but assumed it was one of frustration that he'd escaped and he had kept on. No wand made it impossible to call for help, and so he headed towards the street exit. But of course, as soon as he was within sight of the road, he found himself suddenly pitching forward, driven to the gravel path from behind. He immediately twisted within the grasp, at least it wasn't another Diffindo aimed at his back, and shoved at Corner, his partly rigid legs unable to kick him off properly. The other bloke was shorter, but it wasn't making much difference right now, and he grunted with the effort to get away from him. Even if Stebbins was still shaking off the effects of the earlier immobilization, with all of the flailing he still managed to kick Michael in the shins. One point. Michael promptly retaliated by planting a fist square in Stebbins's face, though in the darkness this was more by accident than design. He tried to untangle himself from Stebbins, though not to run. |